


Valentine's Day Soiree

by RavingInWonderland



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Background Relationships, Developing Relationship, Gen, Mirage being Mirage, Mirage doesn't know he is being flirted with, Multi, Other, Party, Set up for a hook-up, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:22:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29600997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavingInWonderland/pseuds/RavingInWonderland
Summary: Upon placing last in the notoriously brutal Valentine's Day Apex Game, Elliott is forced into hosting the yearly Valentine's Day after party. The newest legend and Apex Champion, Fuse, arrives late only to take the spotlight away from Elliott. Elliott now has to spend the night being outshined (and maybe a little bit jealous).TW: mentions of drinking and minor violence
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	Valentine's Day Soiree

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SamIamSamIwas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamIamSamIwas/gifts).



> Huge thank you to my best friend Sara who beta read this and helped me tighten things up. This is a super late Valentines Day fic idea I had, and will be followed up by a second chapter or story. Apologies for any typos and formatting.

# Valentine's Day Soiree

The Valentine’s Day Apex games are notoriously brutal. Since the beginning, the cycle repeated like clockwork: everyone shows up to the games in their best pink and red attire, they board the airship, and once they all land, proceed to beat the ever-loving-shit out of each other. This year was no different. Recently, a new policy had been adopted amongst the legends: loser hosts the Valentine’s Day get together. Unfortunately for Elliott Witt, he came dead last this year. In a mistake the news later dubbed “The Bamboozle of the Year”, Mirage accidently shot one of his own decoys instead of the enemy team. Then, in a panic, proceeded to run straight into several gas traps Caustic set up, resulting in him passing out from the toxic gas in seconds. The news played the clip on a loop in the 3 days since Wednesday’s game.

Elliott stood at the bar counter top, wiping the same spot he’d been cleaning all evening as he stared down the tv in the corner.. He watched with a frown as a highlight reel of the champion squad played again on the news. The unlikely combination of Caustic, Loba, and the newest legend Fuse, demolished half the squads before the first ring even closed. As if Elliott wasn’t already annoyed enough, the all too familiar clip of his little mistake began to play. He quickly reached for the remote, but had it quickly swiped from his grasp by a pair of small, greasy hands.

“Aww what’s wrong Witt? I thought you loved being on the telly!”

Elliott looked up as loud pop rang out. Ramya was sitting on the opposite side of the bar, leaning back, feet resting on the bars counter.She loudly smacked her gum before blowing another impressively sized bubble.

“Hey, hey! Watch the feet! This isn’t your filthy shop. Feet off the counter!” Mirage took his rag and swatted at her feet.

“Sounds like someone isn’t too happy about coming in last place,” she egged on, followed by a boisterous laugh.

“Yeah well.... at least I’m on the tv. Where were you the whole game? Camping in bunker with Wattson? They probably want to keep playing that clip because I’m so pholo...photon... look good in pictures! Why are you still here anyway? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for tonight?”

“Alright no need to get your knickers in a wad. If you’re so busy I’ll pop off.”

Ramya swung her feet off the counter and hopped off the tall bar chair. Her clunky shoes landed on the smooth hardwood with a thud. Elliott watched as she exited, leaving a trail of muddy boot prints behind. Sighing, he sent out one of his decoys with a mop. 

He had spent the last day and half cleaning up and decorating his bar to host tonight’s Valentine’s Day party, which was exclusive to the legends. Even though he enjoyed throwing bangers and the occasional underground rave, this was his first “fancy pants” party. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t using this all-out extravaganza as a means to distract from the embarrassing loss the days before. Everyone came to expect fun and laid-back parties from him as Mirage, but as Elliott, he insisted on this year’s party to be black tie.

Elliott tossed the dirty rag in a bucket and took a glance at the large clock hanging above the meticulously organized bottles of alcohol behind the bar.  
“Alright five o’clock. Time to get this legend in some fancy pants of his own.”

Elliott gave his last decoy a high-five as it evaporated into a series of blue pixels. Snagging his keys off the bar, he made his way out the front door and headed back to the legend housing compound a few blocks away.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
By 7 p.m. the party was in full swing. Elliott stood at the end of the bar greeting the other legends as they passed by with a smirk and some classic finger guns. His decoys stood ready at the bar serving drinks and hors d’oeuvres to anyone who walked by. The once dingy bar was filled with red and white balloons, some in the shape of hearts, and delicate string lights hanging from the rafters. A few small tables lined the perimeter of the room, leaving the dance floor open and bright.

Mirage waited impatiently at the door, eager to usher in the new Apex champions. Instead he was greeted with a sharp elbow to his side.

“Ouch! Don’t damage the goods!” He quickly spun around and found himself peering down at a short black haired woman in a loose fitting maroon dress.

“Jeez, Wraith! You almost scared the decoys right out of me! You really know how to sneak up on people.”

Wraith smirked as she playfully nudged Elliott’s shoulder.

“Nice party, Elliott. Must have taken you all day to get the place looking this good,” Wraith hummed, a coy smile on her lips. ”Especially after that graffiti mod malfunction Ramya let loose in here last week.”

“Ugh don’t remind me. I’m still finding paint in places I didn’t know paint could be.”

“Shouldn’t you be out socializing with everyone. What are you doing staring at the door like a dog waiting for it’s owner to come home.”

“First of all, if I was a dog, I would be a Golden Retriever. Second, I’m waiting for the champion squad to show up. I wrote a speech and everything. But apparently winners are too good to show up on time.”

“Relax. I’m sure they’ll be here soon, I’m sure. Why don’t you have a drink with me while you wait. Sulking in the corner’s no fun,” she chuckled. “You look like me.”

Elliott smiled. It was a nice to see this light-hearted side of Wraith. “Spoken like a true lone wolf. But I can’t screw this up. I got one chance. Oh boy just wait until you hear the speech I got. Everyone will forget about ‘you know what’ from Wednesday,” Mirage whispered, a hand cupping his mouth to guide the words to Wraith. “Besides, where is your date? You look awfully dolled up for someone who owns one dress and the same shade of lipstick as my mom.”

“Natalie said I looked nice,” Wraith mumbled, reaching up to pull at the hair she had styled to frame her slim face.

“Oh-ho-ho! So Natalie is your date tonight,” Elliott cooed, wiggling his eyebrows as Wraith avoided eye contact.

As if the words summoned her, Natalie came skipping over to the bar. A flowy pink dress with long puffy sleeves made her look like walking cotton candy. Her short hair was curled and hanging down around her face, which was plastered with a large smile.

“Pardon moi. Wraith there you are! I was just speaking with Doctor Somers about the phase tech implemented on Olympus. You said you were familiar with it. We have some questions if you don’t mind!”

Before Wraith could even get out a reply, Natalie grabbed her wrist and was eagerly dragging her towards the fellow scientist. Mirage swiftly grabbed a glass of Champagne from the bar and passed it off to Wraith’s free hand as she desperately reached for Elliott. 

Elliott watched as Wraith coiled back into her shell as the two female scientists began to berate her with questions. She simply nodded, taking slow sips from the flute to avoid having to speak. In an effort to avoid the guilty stare of Wraith, Elliott looked around the room observing the other legends as they carried on. At a table far off to the left, he saw Ajay swatting at Octavio as he continued to play with his bowtie. It was a miracle the man was wearing pants in the first place, and he could hear the hushed scolding Ajay gave him from across the room.

Two tables to the right, he spotted Bloodhound and Makoa chatting excitedly over some handwritten papers Bloodhound pulled from their jacket pocket. They had hardly moved since the start of the evening. Last time Elliott checked in to deliver some drinks, he overheard them discussing Makoa’s “date-but-not-a-date” with his ex-boyfriend the night before. Soon Bloodhound was solemnly reflecting on their own first love as Makoa listened tearfully

Looking down the line at the end of the bar he saw Ramya and Anita tossing back drinks. If the Syndicate hadn’t been sponsoring tonight's event in a sad attempt at “employee morale” , he would be worried they would drink him out of business. Ramya wore a beautiful beaded dress in shades of blue and green. Her ponytail was slicked back and curled at the ends; it was a nice change of pace from the unintentionally oil slicked hair she often had when she really got into her work. Anita on the other hand wore a simple tailored pant suit. It was a dark blue that almost looked black if it weren’t for the slight sheen to the fabric.

Pathfinder somehow managed to corner Revenant and Crypto near the entrance, who were both undoubtedly trying to sneak out early. They both skipped last year’s party, but after a threat to dock their pay from the recent game, both begrudgingly showed up. Crypto at least made an effort in his attire. He wore a standard black suit with a white buttoned up shirt and a red pocket square. Revenant hadn’t bothered with any clothing at all, and he looked the same as he would if he were going into the games. In his staring, he managed to make eye contact with Pathfinder, who gave him an eager thumbs up. The poor guy took the invitation literally and wore nothing but a black tie.

Elliott looked back over the bar to glance at the large clock. It was 7:20 and he explicitly told Caustic and Loba to arrive at seven on the dot. He had hoped they would pass the word onto Fuse who had been too busy with the press to speak with Elliott the last few days. Fuse was the newest legend to join the games, and he was a bigger press hog than Elliott himself. Ever since joining two weeks ago, he had been on a non-stop press conference between the games. He had an impressive winning streak. Even when grouped with some randoms, he managed to pull through and secure a victory. Not that Elliott was jealous or anything. Anyone could win when you have a backpack full of arc stars...

Just as Elliott went down the rabbit hole of possibilities as to how he could take on Fuse, he heard the familiar groan of his bar door open. He snapped his head up to finally see the champion squad entering.

“Alright boys que those lights...it’s show time!”

A decoy behind the bar flicked a few switches and the lights and music quickly dimmed. A soft spotlight illuminated the door as Loba was the first to step into the limelight. She wore a sleeveless floor length red gown, with a slit going up so high Elliott could feel himself blush. Her hair was loose and wavy as it cascaded down her shoulders. Followed closely behind was Nox. His simple black suit and tie felt out of place on him, and he looked rather uncomfortable himself even behind his signature black face mask.

Elliott scrambled to grab the mic behind the counter as the other legends broke out in applause. He quickly pulled his speech from his pocket, which was six cards in total and now completely out of order.

“Friends. Loved ones. People who fight each other! I present to you...your Apex champions,” Elliott gestured as both Loba and Caustic were cheered on by the other legends. A surprisingly warm greeting considering a good portion of them had been knocked out by the team.

_Wait a second..._

“Psst! Loba! Where is Fuse?”

“Don’t worry, beautiful. Walter is on his way. He had something to pick up.”

Miffed at the situation even further, he couldn’t help but notice the new squad was on a first name basis.

_Pfft. New guy can’t be bothered. What kind of name is Fuse anyway. My name is Fuse because I like bombs and bombs have fuses. Not even creative. Poser._

Elliott silently mocked the missing Legend as the applause finally died down.

“If you don’t mind, I prepared a speech for the guests of honor tonight.”

Elliott ushered both Nox and Loba to a table front and center by the dance floor. The other legends gathered around, and the legends now turned to face Elliott who was standing on the dance floor with the spotlight on him.

“Ahem,” he began, clearing his throat. “What is a Legend? Some define it as a hero. Some don’t.”

The room groaned, not exactly excited for another infamously long winded and misguided speech that eventually turned into a mini Mirage memoir. As if the Allfather heard their collective plea, the front door burst open, slamming into the wall, sending nearby balloons scattering.

"Walter 'Fuse' Fitzroy at ya bloody service."

In a flash the mood picked up once more. In strutted Fuse, wearing his game attire and a cheap department store bowtie. His metal hand was proudly gripping a bouquet of roses, while the other held an expensive looking bottle of scotch. Open mouthed, Elliott watched as the Legends flocked to meet him. All Elliott could hear was the mixture of praise and greetings the legend received. He even got a nod from Revenant, who was still looking like he was waiting for his opportunity to escape.

Fuse pushed his way to the dancefloor, walked right up to Elliott, and plucked the microphone from his hand.

“Thank you, thank you,” Fuse replied to the praise of his peers. “I’m not one for speeches so I’ll make this quick. In my experience, kids, you get more outta life if you don’t follow the rules. So with that being said, fuck the rules. Let’s party!”

Fuse outreached his arm and dropped the mic, sending a thunderous wave of cheers across the room. The lights turned back up and the music cranked up louder than before, but it was no longer playing the soft classical music Elliott meticulously picked out. It was the typical music that could be found playing at his club any day of the week. He turned to see his decoy behind the bar flipping switches, changing his charming environment back into a party palooza. His decoy sheepishly smiled and shrugged; even he was riled up by that short speech.

 _Et tu, decoy-te?_  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
The night was going smoothly. Well, for everyone except Elliott. He watched as Fuse quickly became the life of the party. Upon finally making his way to the table, he tossed the scotch bottle to Nox, who accepted with a low hum of approval. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a slender black box which he gracefully handed over to Loba. With a smile, she opened it and pulled out a quite hefty black opal necklace. The glimmer in her eye almost matched that of the gemstones themselves. She delicately took it out of the box and clasped the necklace around her neck. Fuse reached out and grabbed her hand, placing a sloppy kiss on it before turning his attention elsewhere.

For the next three hours he watched as Fuse made his way around the room, socializing with every legend. He had this aura about him that charmed nearly every legend in the room… except Elliott.

As he made his way to each legend he gave them a single rose as a gesture of good faith and in honor of Saint Valentine himself. As the night went on, the bouquet slowly dwindled. First the trio of scientists, who giggled at his crude jokes and wide smile. Next came Ajay, Octavio, and Makoa, who accepted them graciously as an apology for trapping them in his ring of fire in round two. Next came Ramya and Anita, who accepted them more out of good will than a love of flowers. Bloodhound and Crypto came next, and Elliott could hear the praise Fuse received once more as both legends commended him on his strategic wipe of the final squad in the game. Finally came Pathfinder, who managed to have kept Revenant just inside the bar. Fuse took a rose and passed it to Pathfinder, who flashed a heart emoji across his screen. He then slung his arm around Pathfinder and led him to the bar, walking heavily towards Elliott. Fuse engaged Pathfinder in some conversation about ziplines, and in a quick glance over his shoulder, gave Revenant a nod, who quickly slipped out the door. I guess that was a better gift than any flower.

Both Pathfinder and Fuse approached the bar to the right of Elliott, taking a seat in the tall bar top stools. Elliott noticed that Fuse had one rose left, and by all accounts every legend got one tonight except him.

“Get me two Jagerbombs and a glass of oil for my mate here,” Fuse loudly announced, jabbing a metal thumb in Pathfinder’s direction.

“Thanks friend! I would very much like to participate in this new form of shooting you mentioned before.”

“They’re called shots, mate. Just take one and toss ‘em back.”

The decoy behind the bar quickly produced two Jagerbombs and a small shot glass of water. Fuse slid the clear glass to Pathfinder, who caught the small glass easily in his hand. 

Fuse then turned to his left, and slid the additional Jagerbomb to Elliott, who was still staring curiously at the last rose which was now laying inches from him.

“Drink up mate. You throw one hell of a party. Cheers,” Fuse declared, and tossed his drink back. Pathfinder mimicked the motion, splashing the water across his face.

“No thanks. I am more of a martini kind of guy. Gotta... ya know. Watch my figure. And stuff.”

“Come on don’t be such a bloody sook,” Fuse groaned.

“Yes, do the shot friend,” Pathfinder encouraged, giving Elliott a thumbs up.

With a bit of hesitation, Elliott picked up the drink and gave a wave of the glass in Fuse’s direction before quickly swallowing the concoction. Almost immediately he could feel the burn in his throat, causing him to contort his face in disgust.

“There ya go mate. Ain’t such a pansy after all,” Fuse chuckled, reaching an arm over to give Elliott an aggressive pat on the back. For using his human hand, it still felt like a ton of bricks. Elliott gave a weak smile, hoping Fuse would move on. Instead he stayed at the bar, watching as clips of himself play across the tv.

Elliott never felt this way before. Like he was somehow being looked down on. Like he was inferior in some way, even though they both compete in the same blood sport. Elliott swung his feet like a child, watching as the older legend laughed loudly and pointed at the tv, recapping to Pathfinder how he stuck someone with an arc star 100 meters away while on a jump tower.

“What’s with that sour look mate. Got something on your mind?”

The question took Elliott off guard, not wanting to admit that he was jealous of all the attention and praise Fuse was receiving.

“Well.. I was just thinking. When you wink at the cameras, is it really a wink, or is it more like a blink. Because of the whole one eye thing,” Elliott questioned as he covered one of his eyes to emphasize his point. 

A wave of embarrassment washed over Elliott. “Oh, shoot! I’m sorry, that was insensitive.”

Fuse paused for a moment before bursting out in laughter.

“I don’t bloody care what you call it, so long as you call me,” Fuse continued laughing as he shot a wink (blink?) at Elliott.

“You got it Fuse,” Mirage retorted, sinking into his seat with embarrassment.

“Call me Walter, mate.”

Fuse stuck out his hand, and when Elliott didn’t immediately grab it, Fuse reached over and grabbed the legends hand himself before shaking it firmly. Elliott couldn’t help but notice how large Fuse’s hand was. It was warm and surprisingly smooth as it firmly gripped Elliott’s sweaty palm. His publicist probably gave him the typical media overhaul, complete with facial scrubs, a haircut, and manicure (no doubt half off).

“Hands... I mean Elliott! You can call me Elliott.”

Elliott quickly released the other man’s hand, wiping his palm on his pant leg.

“I know who you are Elliott. Quite the little minx you are.”

Fuse waived his hand at the decoy, ordering another round of shots. Elliott felt a mix of confusion and flattery. He wasn’t quite sure what a minx was, but it sounded like a complement, so that’s how he took it. The next round of shots came quickly, and once more Fuse slid the glasses to their respective consumers.

“Cheers,” all three declared before taking the shot.

All three legends slammed the glasses down in unison. The mood noticeably lighter and Elliott felt like with the night coming to a close he could finally relax a bit. Before Elliott could ask Fuse about the strange tattoo on his arm, he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder.

Elliott turned and was greeted by the beauty herself, Loba. Attached at her hip was Anita, with a strong arm lightly wrapped around Loba’s waist.

“Thanks for the party, handsome. But it’s getting late and I have an appearance early tomorrow on channel four,” Loba purred. She reached out, and with a long fingernail, slowly traced it from Elliott’s throat to the tip of his chin. She then turned her attention to Fuse.

“And thank you again for these beautiful jewels. I hope we get to work together again.”

Elliott was shaking and speechless from Loba’s touch. For months he had been crushing on Loba, and that touch sent shivers down his spine. He watched silently as she blew a kiss to Fuse, and proceeded to make her way out of the bar with Anita in tow. She was laughing softly as Anita whispered something in her ear.

“Wait,” Elliott blurted out without thinking, causing Loba to stop and look over her shoulder. “I always wanted to ask you...”

Anita turned around herself, giving Elliott a look that not only could kill, but would also haunt him in the after life.

“Why just Loba? Why not a different name for games?”

“That’s easy.” She smirked. “I’m a legend in and out of the games, beautiful.”

And with a wave of her hand, the two women walked out of the bar. Elliott felt stupid. What he really wanted to ask was if she wanted to grab dinner, or come back to his place. But the look Anita gave him made him think that was off the table. Permanently.

“You’re a real smooth talker there, Elliott,” Fuse cut in, giving him a mocking glance.

“Can we just forget about it. She’s way out of my league. Plus that look Anita gave me? Yeesh!”

“Well maybe you should look into a different sport then, mate.”

Fuse got up from the bar before Elliott could ask him to clarify. He watched as Fuse gave a wave to the few legends left in the bar before heading for the door.

“Wait, Fuse. You forgot your flower,” Elliott called out, picking up the rose and waving it in the air above him.

“No I didn’t mate. It’s right where it needs to be.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for anyone who read this! This is my first work here on AO3. Please let me know what you think in the comments. Look for a fic in the near future that wraps up this story. Will be posting separately since this could be considered a stand alone.


End file.
